I have a date. I think. Sort of.
Although, truth be told, I'm not sure I really know what a date is. I've never been much of a dater. So I may need clarification from more advanced and experienced daters out there.
For me, the biggest dating issue has always been asking someone out for a first date. It's a two-pronged problem. I tend to be shy around women and suffer from a paralyzing fear of rejection. For some reason it's hard to get a date if you can't bring yourself to ask a woman out on a date.
So, in order to work up the nerve to ask a woman out, I had to be pretty head-over-heels for her and know her well enough to be pretty confident her reaction to being asked out would not be laughter, spitting or stunned silence. Of course, it helps to have a friend who could do some recon work and find out if a girl likes you, but that doesn't go over so big after junior high.
I have almost always gone into a first date knowing I wanted a second one. Knowing I want a relationship. Knowing I had a crush on her.
There have been some exceptions, but I always felt uncomfortable and awkward, which didn't make for the most enjoyable outing. Of course that didn't lead to many second dates either.
I know that dating, at least in theory, is a way that people get to know one another to find out if they want to date more. I understand the theory. I've just never been able to put the theory into practice.
So, that's why I don't know if my date Saturday is a date. It's a fix-up situation. A blind date. And there is no expectation for a second date. Perhaps that's what's kept me from freaking out so far and actually has me looking forward to it. In order to get back into (or, perhaps more accurately, get into for the first time ever) the dating scene, it seems important to get that first date in a long time out of the way.
So, I've got a date. And I'm completely comfortable and at ease with the whole thing.
Oops, got to run. my nose just started bleeding. That usually only happens when I've got a cold, or when the weather changes or I'm stressed out about something. I wonder what brought this one on?
Must be the onset of fall weather.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
In search of the profound through beer and blogs
I feel the need to write something extremely profound. To exhibit wisdom through well-chosen words. To engage people in dialogue that chances minds and alters beliefs.
What I really need to achieve these goals is a ghost writer. Or maybe beer.
Hopefully Google/Blogger don't implement a Blog Goggles system like they have with their Gmail Mail Goggles. Stringing words together is enough of a challenge after drinking or late at night, don't ask me to do math!
What I really need to achieve these goals is a ghost writer. Or maybe beer.
Hopefully Google/Blogger don't implement a Blog Goggles system like they have with their Gmail Mail Goggles. Stringing words together is enough of a challenge after drinking or late at night, don't ask me to do math!
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Unravelling a family mystery
I've never known much about my family history. I spent my early childhood in a small town in Nebraska that both of my parents' families had lived in for a long time. I knew one of my great grandparents. But I never really knew much about my family heritage. About all I knew was that my mom's side of the family was German and had come to America from Russia.
That's all.
My father's side has been a complete mystery. From the few conversations I've had about the family line with my father, I think that lineage is a mystery to him too. For the most part, it's been a mystery I've not felt too compelled to solve.
Something seems to have changed.
I'm not quite sure what inspired me to do it, but I've started looking into my family tree. Maybe it's the fact that they were talking about ancestry recently on the Today Show (although I didn't see any of those segments, just the promos for them). Then, there was a commercial for a website that allows people to trace their family tree on TV the other day. And as simple as that, I started a search.
Maybe it should not be such a surprise that I've become captivated by this exploration. It sort of fits what I do for my day job. Finding information, looking for records, trying to answer difficult questions is part of my job.
If the path I've followed is true, I've traced my father's line back 10 generations, to the year 1680 in England, before I ran out of leads. I've been able to get back about the same number of generations on one branch of my mother's side of the family, also to England, where that trail runs cold in 1724. I'm not sure if I can expect to find much about my maternal grandfather's family or not. I did find records indicating they were German, but I have jet to find a name for my grandfather's grandfather. So, the search will continue.
I've enjoyed the challenge of trying to add small pieces of the puzzle together to learn what the next piece reveals. It may not result in a story for print in the normal way I deal with stories, but it may tell me more about my own story, the things about myself that I never knew I wanted or needed to know.
Now, as my daughter is becoming a young adult, it seems like that's a story that I may want to tell her one day.
That's all.
My father's side has been a complete mystery. From the few conversations I've had about the family line with my father, I think that lineage is a mystery to him too. For the most part, it's been a mystery I've not felt too compelled to solve.
Something seems to have changed.
I'm not quite sure what inspired me to do it, but I've started looking into my family tree. Maybe it's the fact that they were talking about ancestry recently on the Today Show (although I didn't see any of those segments, just the promos for them). Then, there was a commercial for a website that allows people to trace their family tree on TV the other day. And as simple as that, I started a search.
Maybe it should not be such a surprise that I've become captivated by this exploration. It sort of fits what I do for my day job. Finding information, looking for records, trying to answer difficult questions is part of my job.
If the path I've followed is true, I've traced my father's line back 10 generations, to the year 1680 in England, before I ran out of leads. I've been able to get back about the same number of generations on one branch of my mother's side of the family, also to England, where that trail runs cold in 1724. I'm not sure if I can expect to find much about my maternal grandfather's family or not. I did find records indicating they were German, but I have jet to find a name for my grandfather's grandfather. So, the search will continue.
I've enjoyed the challenge of trying to add small pieces of the puzzle together to learn what the next piece reveals. It may not result in a story for print in the normal way I deal with stories, but it may tell me more about my own story, the things about myself that I never knew I wanted or needed to know.
Now, as my daughter is becoming a young adult, it seems like that's a story that I may want to tell her one day.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Online social life is booked solid
Holy cow, I haven't posted here in ages, and to make my online live just a little crazier, I've added LinkedIn and Facebook account. How will I ever keep up?
I held out as long as I could. I avoided LinkedIn and Facebook (and before that MySpace) well past the point where they were hip. But too many people I know are on those services. And I'm glad I've signed up, because at least it makes it possible to see (even if it's only in photos) a lot of friends I don't get to see often enough, especially some friends from my days in Southern California. Life just moves on, and I don't get to see the people who have been, and remain, important as often as I would like -- as often as I should.
So, it's been nice getting back in touch with some friends and former colleagues. But, I'm not sure I can handle the pressure to provide updates, upload photos, send do-hickeys and whatchamacallits to people.
If I had as many active social contacts in my offline world as I do in the cyber realm, I'd never be home.
I held out as long as I could. I avoided LinkedIn and Facebook (and before that MySpace) well past the point where they were hip. But too many people I know are on those services. And I'm glad I've signed up, because at least it makes it possible to see (even if it's only in photos) a lot of friends I don't get to see often enough, especially some friends from my days in Southern California. Life just moves on, and I don't get to see the people who have been, and remain, important as often as I would like -- as often as I should.
So, it's been nice getting back in touch with some friends and former colleagues. But, I'm not sure I can handle the pressure to provide updates, upload photos, send do-hickeys and whatchamacallits to people.
If I had as many active social contacts in my offline world as I do in the cyber realm, I'd never be home.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Reliving the gory, glory days
This upcoming weekend, the Fourth of July weekend, is one I've been looking forward to for a long time. Now, for some unexplained reason, I find myself having mixed emotions about it.
I've been looking forward to it for months now because there is a reunion in my old hometown and I'm hoping to see a lot of old friends from school, many of whom I probably haven't seen in 20 years or more.
Our school was quite small, so we can't really have traditional high school reunions, where a particular class gathers at those various milestone years -- 5, 10, 20, 25 years, etc. If we did that for my class, there would only be 17 of us there, and spouses perhaps, and that's if everyone showed up, and if I'm rightly remembering the number of people in my class. Obviously, everyone would not show up. So, every so often a school/community reunion is scheduled where everyone from any year, or who has ever just lived in the community can show up. So, that might improve the odds that more than 17 people will be there, but it also means that people far younger, or older, than I and whom I don't even know will be there. It's not just classmates, or even immediate year schoolmates.
I already know at least one of my classmates, and the guy who was my best friend from second grade through college, won't be there. He has a family event to attend for the holiday weekend.
Maybe part of the reason I'm having mixed feelings is because I'm skipping out on a family event myself to attend this school/community reunion. But this is only the second school reunion like this I've heard about since I graduated. The only other one I knew about occurred when I was living in California and the time off just wasn't in the cards, or something. I don't really remember when it was or why I didn't go, but I didn't.
I am excited to see at least one person who I know is expected to attend. One of my old running buddies who now lives in Germany is bringing his wife and kids home to visit his family and they scheduled their visit to coincide with the reunion.
The friend in question was a few years ahead of me in school, and had a bit of a wild boy reputation. Why he ever let me hang out with him, I'll never know. But we had a good time pursuing, if never quite capturing the elusive females of the species on warm summer days and nights in a beat up Chevy Vega, or whatever vehicle I could manage to borrow from my folks.
In fact I even served as best man at his first wedding, a casual backyard affair. I had no clue what a best man was supposed to do, and in hindsight I was a lousy one, but I stood up with my friend and witnesses the momentous occasion, all the while fawning over his then-new bride's younger sister.
My ol' buddy and I got reacquainted not so long ago over the Internet. In fact he was the one who told me about the reunion. Obviously he's got better connections around the old homestead than I do. Given the time difference, we often catch up with each other just as he is starting his work day and I'm thinking I should head off to bed.
Getting a chance to get caught up should be worth the trip. And who knows, maybe there will be some still single, or single again, women there too. And I can get absolutely nowhere again with the girls-turned-women of my old hometown.
Sometimes I get quite nostalgic for home, that home of my youth, and the people I spent it with. But I don't miss the boy I was, perpetually shy and terrified of members of the opposite sex. The boy who was unsure of himself and his place in the world. That boy is, for the most part, gone. But his ghosts haunts the present day from time to time, like when I'm confronted with a new situation, or meeting new people in a purely social context. It's those times I wish I had my old running buddy or my old best friend to lead the way with their outgoing, seemingly unflappable natures. Their confidence, bordering on arrogance, was something I've never perfected, except sometimes in the working world. Sometimes, when I know I need to take a leap, not like the one at the swimming hole along the Umatilla River of my teens, I need someone to leap first to show me the water is deep enough. And sometimes I need someone to give me a little nudge to leave the relative security of solid ground to step out into thin air and feel the rush.
I've been looking forward to it for months now because there is a reunion in my old hometown and I'm hoping to see a lot of old friends from school, many of whom I probably haven't seen in 20 years or more.
Our school was quite small, so we can't really have traditional high school reunions, where a particular class gathers at those various milestone years -- 5, 10, 20, 25 years, etc. If we did that for my class, there would only be 17 of us there, and spouses perhaps, and that's if everyone showed up, and if I'm rightly remembering the number of people in my class. Obviously, everyone would not show up. So, every so often a school/community reunion is scheduled where everyone from any year, or who has ever just lived in the community can show up. So, that might improve the odds that more than 17 people will be there, but it also means that people far younger, or older, than I and whom I don't even know will be there. It's not just classmates, or even immediate year schoolmates.
I already know at least one of my classmates, and the guy who was my best friend from second grade through college, won't be there. He has a family event to attend for the holiday weekend.
Maybe part of the reason I'm having mixed feelings is because I'm skipping out on a family event myself to attend this school/community reunion. But this is only the second school reunion like this I've heard about since I graduated. The only other one I knew about occurred when I was living in California and the time off just wasn't in the cards, or something. I don't really remember when it was or why I didn't go, but I didn't.
I am excited to see at least one person who I know is expected to attend. One of my old running buddies who now lives in Germany is bringing his wife and kids home to visit his family and they scheduled their visit to coincide with the reunion.
The friend in question was a few years ahead of me in school, and had a bit of a wild boy reputation. Why he ever let me hang out with him, I'll never know. But we had a good time pursuing, if never quite capturing the elusive females of the species on warm summer days and nights in a beat up Chevy Vega, or whatever vehicle I could manage to borrow from my folks.
In fact I even served as best man at his first wedding, a casual backyard affair. I had no clue what a best man was supposed to do, and in hindsight I was a lousy one, but I stood up with my friend and witnesses the momentous occasion, all the while fawning over his then-new bride's younger sister.
My ol' buddy and I got reacquainted not so long ago over the Internet. In fact he was the one who told me about the reunion. Obviously he's got better connections around the old homestead than I do. Given the time difference, we often catch up with each other just as he is starting his work day and I'm thinking I should head off to bed.
Getting a chance to get caught up should be worth the trip. And who knows, maybe there will be some still single, or single again, women there too. And I can get absolutely nowhere again with the girls-turned-women of my old hometown.
Sometimes I get quite nostalgic for home, that home of my youth, and the people I spent it with. But I don't miss the boy I was, perpetually shy and terrified of members of the opposite sex. The boy who was unsure of himself and his place in the world. That boy is, for the most part, gone. But his ghosts haunts the present day from time to time, like when I'm confronted with a new situation, or meeting new people in a purely social context. It's those times I wish I had my old running buddy or my old best friend to lead the way with their outgoing, seemingly unflappable natures. Their confidence, bordering on arrogance, was something I've never perfected, except sometimes in the working world. Sometimes, when I know I need to take a leap, not like the one at the swimming hole along the Umatilla River of my teens, I need someone to leap first to show me the water is deep enough. And sometimes I need someone to give me a little nudge to leave the relative security of solid ground to step out into thin air and feel the rush.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)